


Tinted Mirrors

by pencilguin



Series: Tinted Mirrors [1]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, asexual!Stamets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 19:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16582667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pencilguin/pseuds/pencilguin
Summary: [Spoilers for season 1] In which the Paul Stamets of the Mirror Universe doesn’t die, and goes looking for Hugh Culber again.





	1. First Step

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on Tumblr. Unbeta'd; I apologize for any mistakes that might still be in there.

The memories that Paul had hoped would fade away now that he was back home stayed, unflinching and burning in his gut like nothing had ever before, apart from his passion for science and his hunger for knowledge. How ridiculous was it that these idiots could have such an impact on him? If anyone ever found out … 

Paul tried to shake off that thought. _Professionalism. Keep up the mask; it is your strongest defense._

With his usual remarkable purposefulness and efficiency he had found Hugh Culber again, had found out that he was back on Alpha Centauri, the Empire’s historical first colony outside of their own star system. Had found him in that same shady bar as two years ago, where an accident had turned into awful pickup lines that still somehow landed both of them in bed. Ways parting in the morning, expecting never to see each other again. Because that’s not how these things went. 

But Culber was here again, and Paul found him, and he crossed the room with purpose towards the bar, his eyes fixed on his destination: that familiar stranger in the black and red uniform. 

He made a straightforward offer, because that’s how these things usually went, here in their world, if you didn’t make a fool of yourself by accident first. Paul didn’t comment on the expression that briefly flitted across Culber’s face, not ready to ask if it was recognition and humiliate himself in public. Only an idiot would cut his own flesh inside a shark tank. 

The evening in Paul’s hotel room was a messy and sweaty business, more vividly familiar than he had been prepared for, making even clearer that it wasn’t what he wanted, what he _really_ had come looking for. No, the hunger in his chest, the abyss that his months in the network had left behind wasn’t satisfied by something as simple as this. 

Something fluttered in his stomach for the first time when Hugh Culber settled down leaning into him and rested his head on Paul’s chest, when Paul gently wrapped his arms around his chest and Culber let him. And then it fluttered again when Culber spoke. 

“You’re different. Softer. What happened?” 

Paul froze. Had he been too obvious? Had his reflexive displays of affection been too straightforward, too inappropriate for the kind of arrangement they had? Inwardly he cursed the idiots of the parallel universe for their sappy and sweet demeanor, and himself for watching them for so long that they had managed to infect his mind. 

“You remember me?” he said instead, trying to manage a bemused smile. 

“I always remember good technique.” 

“You think I’m good?” he replied with genuine surprise. 

“Your technique is good. But you lack passion.” 

Paul pondered for a few beats. 

“I tend to invest my passion in other areas of my life.” 

At that, Culber turned around in his arms to look at him. 

“Oh, really? Like what?” 

“Like work.” 

“So you weren’t actually interested?” 

“I _am_ interested.” He hesitated. “In you.” 

“Really?” Culber didn’t sound convinced. 

Paul wished he had thought this through to the end. Prepared himself better for what he would say, how he would explain himself. But how could he explain what it was that he was searching for, that kept him up each night ever since he had come back from the network? Terrans had no trouble understanding earthly desires, interest in entangling bodies, the search for pleasures that were always duller when sought alone. For Paul that had never been more than something he’d used to get what he wanted, something with which to pay for the favors he asked. And for decades he had been content with what he had, with keeping his distance from people and pouring all of himself into his work. 

But now? Now Hugh Culber was in his bed and had been lying on his chest and was flashing his charming, impossibly radiant grin at Paul, and it nurtured him like drops of rain slowly pooling in the dried-up pond inside his chest. He wanted to lower his mask, to be wrapped in those arms and feel at peace, to see that smile every day and be the reason it was there. He desperately wanted to tear open his own ribcage, to pull out his shrivelled little heart and lay it at Hugh’s feet, and hope that he would pick it up and see it as something worth loving. 

Oh, what a fool he was. 

“I want … something more.” 

“More?” 

“More than this.” 

Hugh tilted his head. “What are you proposing?” 

“A relationship.” Paul eyed him, nervous and expectant. 

With a smile to entertain a child that wants to play pretend, Hugh responded. 

“I accept your offer, Paul Stamets.” 

“Hugh Culber.” 


	2. Options

Hugh pondered, regarding the pale man fast asleep with his back against Hugh’s chest, his ribcage moving slightly with the rhythm of his steady breathing. 

Paul Stamets … Hugh remembered him well enough from their first encounter. He had been different back then. Colder. More efficient. Distant. And not short on arrogance and cocky confidence. If it wasn’t for his remarkably memorable features, Hugh would never believe that this was the same person. 

With a carefulness that surprised even himself, he draped his right arm around Stamets’ torso and pulled him just a tiny bit closer. His hand was resting on Stamets’ bare chest now, a little off from the center, to the left. A steady, warm beat pulsated under his palm. 

Hugh tensed the muscles in his hand until his fingertips dug lightly into Stamets’ skin, forming a cage around the source of the pulse. 

How easy it would be to simply pick up a scalpel and cut this man’s heart out. He wouldn’t even be able to react fast enough to put up a fight, even if he wasn’t unarmed and naked. 

Who would be reckless and trusting like that? Turning their back to someone, falling asleep in their arms? Who in their right mind would open up to anyone else like Stamets had, make themselves as vulnerable as this? 

No other Terran had ever let their guard down around Hugh like that. Not even his sisters; not even his parents. Certainly not some lover he barely knew and who barely knew him. None of them did. 

Something stirred within him, just the tiniest bit. Something soft and gentle. His hand relaxed, flattening once again. 

The idea of cutting this heart out didn’t sound appealing. He tried to imagine doing what Stamets had done. Letting down his guard, dropping his caution. Baring his heart. The idea excited him for a moment. 

A smile curled around his lips. He leaned closer and buried his face in the back of Stamets’ neck; closed his eyes and breathed in his scent, warm and comforting and _safe_. 

The tension seeped out of his muscles. _There’s nothing here to be afraid of_ , he thought, his smile settling in comfortably as well, _only Paul._

**Author's Note:**

> To everyone who leaves any comments on my works: Thank you so much, they make me happier than you can imagine. And if I don’t respond to them it’s because I’ve used up all the words on my writing and all I’m left with is feelings I can’t articulate. <3


End file.
